Gone Away
by Avirra
Summary: Illya gets the news he has always dreaded. Saying farewell to the original Napoleon Solo, Robert Vaughn (11/22/1932 - 11/11/2016)


Illya was looking through his living room window and sipping on a cup of tea when the knock came at his door. Despite the passing of many years since he had been a field agent, the old wariness was still ingrained. He wasn't expecting anyone, so he made sure he was discreetly armed as he went to the door.

The man wasn't anyone he knew, but was dressed as an employee of an overnight delivery firm. Illya fell into the role of a doddering old man (a role that, he reluctantly had to admit, was far easier to fall into than he cared for) and opened the door with a smile, his accent still pronounced despite the fact he had lived far more years in the United States than anywhere else.

"Good morning, young man. Can I help you?"

It was early enough that this was one of the delivery man's first runs, so he was still fresh and recently caffeinated which had him returning the pleasantries with a smile of his own.

"Good morning, sir. I have a special delivery envelope for you. If you would sign here, please?"

"Of course."

Taking the offered pen, Illya tried to keep his hand steady, but there were few reasons that anyone would send him a letter in this fashion and none of them were good ones. He signed his name and handed back the pen, accepting the thick cardboard envelope in return.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir. Have a good morning."

Closing the door, the first thing Illya did was to look at the return address and his heart sank. He recognized the name of the law firm. It was the same one that had handled the settling of Aunt Amy's estate when the venerable Solo matriarch had passed away. Unable to bring himself to open it, he sat it in the middle of his kitchen's island and returned to his tea.

Morning passed into afternoon and still the envelope sat untouched as Illya stroked his cat (Wellington the Seventh). When another unexpected knock came to his door as evening approached, Illya jumped, gaining him a disgruntled yowl from Wellington.

He was not quite as meticulous with his security as he had been earlier, but he did look to see who his visitor was before opening the door wide. April, older but still lovely, rushed into his arms and hugged him close. They stood there together for several minutes before closing the door and moving to the sofa.

"So. It is true then."

April looked puzzled, then saw the envelope on the island. She hugged Illya again and kissed his forehead.

"You were putting off knowing for sure, weren't you? You were my rock three years ago when I lost Mark. Let me be here for you today."

"How did you know?"

"You weren't the only one to get a special delivery this morning, darling. I washed my face and headed here after I read it."

Swallowing hard, Illya stood up and moved to the island, looking at the innocuous envelope as if it was a cobra. April sat quietly and waited as he finally picked the envelope up and brought it back to the sofa with him. April got up and gave him another kiss.

"You haven't moved things since my last visit, have you? I'll go make a fresh pot of tea for us."

She paused again.

"Let me guess - you haven't eaten either, have you?"

A hint of a smile appeared on Illya's lips. April knew him far too well and didn't need any further confirmation. He heard her pick up the phone and call in a delivery order for Chinese as he turned the envelope over and opened it.

Inside was a short note from the law firm saying that they would be in touch within the next few days to deliver the items Napoleon had left to him, but the enclosed envelope had been specifically designated to be sent first. The inner envelope had the distinct feel of fine stationery and made his mind immediately think of the Waverlys and Aunt Amy. The handwriting on the envelope was equally distinct though Napoleon's script did not flow as smoothly as it once had.

Opening the second envelope gently so as not to tear it, Illya pulled out the letter, but felt that there was something else inside the envelope. He left whatever it was in there for the moment and unfolded the letter, adjusting his glasses as he began to read.

"Illya,

Please don't be mad at me, tovarich, but my doctor told me that my Solo luck has finally run its course. I can't find the nerve to tell you in person and over a phone or even Skype is too impersonal. Hell, neither of us seriously expected to live to forty, so I'd say that doubling that means I had a good run. There's so much I want to say to you but there aren't words. Not the right ones.

I will say that Mister Waverly was correct - as usual. Having the right person by your side makes all the difference. I couldn't begin to imagine what my life would have been without you, but I know it would have been far less rich, far less enjoyable, and far more lonely without my partner and best friend.

If any of my Solo luck remains, April is either there or will be shortly. Give her a hug and kiss from me. By now, I have the answer to those questions we debated at 3 am so many mornings. Don't worry, I still don't plan to join any club that won't welcome you with open arms.

We're not really gone, you know. Mark and I have only gone ahead to do reconnaissance for our next mission.

Napoleon"

Illya drew a shaky breath and reached into the envelope again, feeling a laminated card. It had been replaced many times over the years, but it was the old U.N.C.L.E. id card that Napoleon had carried over fifty years ago when they were first partnered together. Holding the card in his hand finally broke the dam and the tears began falling.

He felt April come and wrap her arms around him. Illya hugged her back and kissed her cheek, his voice hoarse as he managed to get out.

"From Napoleon."

Then they wept together.


End file.
